


By Blood

by literamancy



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Death, F/M, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Infant Death, Killing, Out of map experience, Post-Canon, Rating subject to change, Violence, a lot of blood, like died being born not graphic child death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:44:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literamancy/pseuds/literamancy
Summary: It was not often that Nil got caught off guard, but not unheard of.





	1. Shadow Touched

It was not often that Nil was caught off guard, and now he had found himself surprised twice in as many hours.

 

The first of course led to the second. He had been watching the subtle scraps against trees where a careless weapon had scrapped. The trees were close knit, it was unsurprising that there was a trail. He had stepped, and felt his foot sink. And then, all at once, he was whipped up into the air by his foot. It had brought him up into the branches of the trees, far enough up he feared his neck would snap should he fall, and into the tight embrace of the waiting nest of ropes. Struggling had led to being more tightly held. It was fantastic, if irritating, work.

 

He would like to blame his capture on the fact he had not slept in two days with how intent he was on his hunt, but that would be a disservice to the huntress that stepped out from the shadows. From where he was suspended he could see little more than the top of her head. Her hair was dark, dark as the space between the stars, and ran in a long braided stretch down the center of her head. It had a number of ornaments in it, though he was unable to see what exactly from his distance.

 

Her eyes, when she looked up at him, were just as dark. They also did not land on him exactly, not his eyes, but somewhere around his shoulder.

 

“You are not one of the Bloodied Men,” she said, at length. Her voice was a knife on silk. Smooth, but an edge. Perhaps a threat of a tear. It relaxed the two fingers that were touching the very hilt of his dagger.

 

“Bloodied before, certainly, and a man as well. Though not with the title you seem to have spoke.”

 

“Then what are you doing here?”

 

“Currently? Being suspended above the leaf litter. I presume this is your work?” Her eyes still did not touch on his face. He wondered if she could not see well. Her eyes seemed rather unfocused. A weakness to exploit later?

 

Still, it allowed him to study her. It was not easy by the limited light of the moon, and stars, and leaves blocking them. However, her clothing was akin to the style he had seen in Tenakth warriors. He had come across a few in his time, and he was more South of the Sundom than he had want to travel before. There were not as much scum there as there had been once, so his travels had brought him farther. The skirt was padded on the sides, a straight short sword and dagger were on her left, and she wore a simple breast band. There were some differences than what he had seen before. She had a pauldron on her right shoulder, as well as gauntlets. Her skin almost glowed in the dark. He had never seen someone so pale.

 

She was moving now. “Are you out to join them?”

 

“If I was?”

 

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her head out to face the black between the trees. Black as her hair. He imagined, from a distance, it would seem as though the shadows bled from her. “I would kill you.”

 

“I believe you would,” he said easily. Her gaze returned to him, or, at least, as to him as it had been before. Steady, at his shoulder. “I am not, however. I was hunting. Perhaps the men you speak of? Bandits, in the least, are my prey.”

 

“Perhaps the same. But you cannot continue further. There are many of my traps between here, and them, and I’ll not escort you.”

 

“Now that I know to look, I imagine I can escort myself.”

 

“Doubtful,” she said. “I will not allow you to stir their anger either. You would not be the first fool to ignite their fury.”

 

“You assume I would leave any to burn. Alive, at least.”

 

“You do not know what you seek. Again, I will not allow you to continue on. Will you turn back, or will you hang until you are weak enough for me to carry you away?”

 

“Not much of a choice,” Nil said. He studied her face. It was shadowed, but he did not doubt her. He realized she reminded him very much of a stalker. Despite the bulk of her skirts at her waist she was slim. There were wry lines of muscle. Lithe, but, he had no doubt, deadly. He did not see a bow upon her.

 

She did not speak. She waited his answer.

 

“Very well, I will turn away.”

 

She dropped her eyes once more, and turned away. He thought, for a moment, that she had changed her mind. She stepped behind a tree, and far out of sight. He would not call for her, but there was a sharp unease in his gut. He would not be able to escape by himself, though he doubted he would be found if he was still and quiet.

 

There was a sudden jerk that made his suspended foot sing with pain, but then he was being lowered. His tangled trap of ropes descended with him. The leaves where soft when the top of his head connected. He grunted when there was a sharp tug that swung him forwards. He grunted again when he fell the last bit onto his back.

 

“Do not cut my ropes,” she said, and stepped, once more, into his sight. She was strong. She lowered him by herself, and managed not to do more than toss his breath for a moment.

 

He obeyed, and, when freed, rose slowly. He collected his helm which had fallen when he had ascended. Her eyes found their way to his left elbow when he straightened. She pointed into the gloom behind him, and a bit to his left.

 

“Go that way. You will not run into any more traps, and you will find the road. Follow it north, and there is a small village. They will not be welcoming to anything but your shards, and they will slit your throat if you have too many.”

 

Nil opened his mouth to speak, and took half a step forwards.

 

Her eyes snapped to his, for the first time, and it hit him light a bolt from a Stormbird. Not blind then, not impaired, certainly, judging by the focus now. So shocked by it he didn’t notice the weapon now, as if by some trickery, in her hand, and pointed at his chest. Her teeth were bared. He noticed, distantly, the black lines painted diagonally up her face; about as thick as his forefinger, and forming a point at the center of her forehead. They exited just below her ears. He wondered if they traveled around the back of her head.

 

“Step closer, and I will kill you.”

 

“I do not doubt it,” he said. His foot had already retreated from its advance.

 

“Turn. Walk. Do not turn back. I will shoot you if you do.”

 

“Very well,” Nil said, softly, easily. She had burned him with interest, even more so now, but he had misjudged the extent of her patience. Her eyes did not leave his. He couldn’t look away, even as he took a few, slow, steps backwards. Her hand did not waver. He did not try for any of his weapons.

 

Once her skin was just a hint in the shadows-- _her hair, and the lines on her face did make it seem the shadows poured from her_ \--he turned. He did not look back.

 

Nil had no doubt she would have shot him if she had seen even a hint of hesitance.


	2. Inability to Run

Coye was not pleased by the time she got back to the hidden cave. It had taken her to most of the night to reset her trap. She had waited almost an hour to ensure the stranger had not come back towards her. She had thought of trailing him out of the woods, but if he harmed himself after her intervention it was his own problem. The fact he had gotten so deep into the forest without stepping into a different trap was troubling, and the fact that he had got so close to the hidden cave even more so.

 

The worst part was the trail he had been following. It had come so close, and led right up to the Bloodied Men’s Maw. She had followed it herself. Their hidden cave would not be so much longer.

 

“We need to move,” she said by way of greeting. It made Falk jump, and whirl to hush her. The fire was little more than embers. Furious she kicked dirt on it to smother it.

 

“They need it,” the older man hissed. Without the embers it was nearly dark in the cave. The sun had yet to reach the hole in the ceiling that allowed the smoke out. She bared her teeth at him.

 

“They have the blankets. What they  _ need  _ is to not have the Bloodied Men drawn to us,” she snarled. He shushed her again. “We need to move.”

 

“You know we can’t,” he said on a sigh. It was not the first time they had had this particular fight. They were two months free of the warlord, and Amma’s infirmary was preventing them from moving past his reach even now.

 

Said woman was uneasily asleep under a mound of blankets. Her stomach cased a large bulge, and she seemed just a sick as when Coye had last been in yesterday morning. Amma’s already born child, Eitan, was tucked into her side, clutching her and a stuffed fox. He was perhaps six winters. Falk gently replaced a cool cloth on Amma’s forehead. Both mother and child were tanned, and had fair hair. Neither were used to life outside of the fortress despite the time now away. Any day Amma’s stomach threatened to burst forth with new, squalling, life that would be more threat to give their position away than anything.

 

Coye wanted to scream. She did not escape the warlord to be brought back because of these fools.

 

Nor could she bring herself to leave them.

 

“Did you bring food?”

 

“Here,” she said, the fight gone from her suddenly. She handed over the three rabbits, and single turkey. Falk began to clean them. He was a tall man, and strong aside from the limp in his leg and the wrinkles in his face. He was deft with a knife, and had paint markings on his face he touched up everyday. He refused to explain them, but was unending in his upkeep. Even when they were back at the fortress he was never remiss in his tending despite everything.

 

And despite his abilities with a knife he would be little use in a fight. Perhaps if they had managed to save the bow he would be helpful, but they hadn’t.

 

She should have taken the stranger’s bow. She hadn’t wanted to get close to him.

 

She pondered once again giving Falk her cross-shot, but it would take more training than they had time for to teach him how to use it. She also needed it to hunt.

 

It was also hers, and there was very little left that was.

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

“No,” she said, and sat across from him. He paused in his motions, and was careful, now, in how quickly he moved. She appreciated it. She appreciated his ability to heal, and the fact he had drawn her in in his escape plan when he had hatched it. She owed him a lot. If she could convince him to leave the other two, they might survive.

 

“Please don’t bring up Eitan again,” he said. She bared her teeth again.

 

“He would not chase us if we had left him.”

 

“You know we couldn’t,” Falk said, again, softly. She huffed. She knew he was right. She was just tired, and watching his mechanical motions was making her want to lie down if even for a little. “I asked, before, what had you so worried.”

 

“Well, besides the obvious-”

 

“Yes, yes. We aren’t far enough, we can’t move fast enough, I  _ know _ .”

 

“There was a man in my trap last night. One of the orange and red ropes,” Coye said. He froze, and she felt him look at her face even though he knew she wouldn’t be looking at his. “Not a Bloodied.” Falk gusted out a relieved breath. She coded her traps with colored rope. Those with red were the closest to the cave.

 

“We can’t move,” Falk said again, those his voice shook. “It would kill the baby, or her, or both.”

 

“Talk to her when she wakes. We have to. He was tracking Bloodied Men. They were in the area he got caught.”

 

Falk cursed, and ran a worried hand over his brow. It left a streak of rabbit blood. She flicked her eyes to Amma. Her breathing was swift and shallow.

 

“We need to kill them,” Falk said.

 

Coye snorted. “That isn’t possible. There are ten for each of us. It is to well guarded. Only running will save us.”

 

“Running isn’t possible either. Waddling isn’t possible!” he said, and his voice rose to an almost shout. They both went still when they heard shifting.

 

“Falk?”

 

“We are over here Eitan. Coye is back,” Falk said. His voice was easy, kind now. The little boy slipped out from under his blankets, and came closer.

 

“Ew.”

 

“They will taste good once they get cooked up tonight.”

 

“Why not now? I am hungry,” Eitan said, and sat by Falk to watch. He had wide, gold eyes.

 

“Eat some fruit then.”

 

“It’s all gone. Water too,” Eitan said, and glanced at Coye. She sighed, and stood. “I come?”

 

“You stay,” she said.

 

“Surely it isn’t too much danger to take him a few trees in,” Falk said, gently. She closed her eyes for a second, and then sighed.

 

“Get the packs and waterskins,” she said. Eitan scrambled to his feet, and over to his mother. She stirred from the noise, and blinked into the dark of the cave.

 

“What’s wrong baby?” she mumbled.

 

“I’m helping the Stalker get fruit.”

 

“That isn’t her name Eitan,” Amma said, and started to sit up. She gasped in pain, and Falk was on his feet in an instant to see to her.

 

“Take your time getting fruit, there is no rush,” he said, distracted, and patted Eitan’s head as he passed. The boy had gone shaky. Neither noticed the blood Falk left behind.

 

“Come Goose,” Coye said, softly. Eitan turned and stumbled over to her. She took him by the shoulder, and took one of his packs. She also took the three large treated leather bags for their water. The bags had been used to carry their scant supplies with them on the run from the Fortress. In the past few weeks that Amma had been bedridden they were used for supplies from the forest.

 

The two of them stood blinking into the sunlight. Coye was quick to urge them on when she heard gasps behind them. She had a vice on Eitan’s shoulder so he would not turn around. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep after a night of none, but she remembered her own childhood. As much as she resented the danger Eitan’s presence put on them she wasn’t about to witness his mother’s possible death.

 

Because that was where they were at, wasn’t it? Amma was somewhere near the edge. The conditions weren’t making anything easier. The chill at night would make her sicker, and the thing in her belly was leeching the life from her, and the warlord put it there.

 

“Ow,” Eitan said. Coye eased her grip.

 

“Do you see fruit? Do you remember what I told you?”

 

“Stay behind you. Let you know if I see blue light,” he chirped faithfully. At least, with all their misfortunes, machines were not added on top of it. She had only caught one watcher in her ropes, and that had been at the edge of the woods. She suspected the closed quarters weren’t too welcoming to the machines. When she had to get components she had to leave the safety of the forest, and brave the fields beyond. She did not get components often.

 

“Bananas!” Eitan said, and then put a hand over his mouth when she wheeled to give him a look. “Sorry. Be quiet. Be calm. And...um.”

 

“Be still when I say,” she sighed. She looked up though and the bananas were where she had expected them to be. “I will drop them down,” she said. He nodded, and stood a little off to the side.

 

Coye climbed the trunk, and settled herself, as best she could, in its… well they couldn’t be called branches. Among the large leaves. She took her dagger, and cut one bundle free. She picked one from the very top, and cut as close to the tree as possible. She lowered it with some rope hidden under one of her hip plates.

 

“Can’t we get more?” Eitan asked when she rejoined him on the ground. She took one from the bundle, and handed it to him.

 

“Why can’t we do that?” she asked, and made herself look him in the face. He screwed up his nose and pursed his lips in thought.

 

“So we can’t be found?”

 

“Right,” she said, and tapped his forehead with her knuckle. She divided up the bunch of bananas while he ate his. She eased the thirty or so individual fruits into her pack, and put his peel in with the rest when he finished. “What would you like to find now?”

 

“Berries?”

 

“We might, by the river. Come,” she said, and he followed. He was good at following instructions, and picked up moving carefully through the wilderness much better than the others did. Not that Falk didn’t seem to know what he was doing, but his limp left as good as a road behind him. 

 

She had Eitan crouch in a bush when they neared the river.

 

Coye wasn’t too fond of bringing him to the river. There was too much clear space, it was too easy to spot someone. She stayed low to the ground as she slipped out from the shadows. She barely breathed as she looked up and down the river. She held her breath for a moment as she listened.

 

Slowly, she stood.

 

It was another two or so minutes before she gestured for him to join her. She pointed out the berry bushes to him, and he eagerly hurried over with his pack to get as many as he could. They were small, and blue.

 

Coye flexed, and twisted her left hand so that her cross-shot deployed down from her gauntlet into her palm. It was a marvel, and made long ago by her unremembered father for her mother. Its arms were as wide across as her two hands placed fingertip to fingertip, and its body little longer than one hand by itself. The stock was attached to the gauntlet itself. When fired she would feel the kickback down her arm. It shot bolts with poison, but it's reload time was not the best. Still, she wanted it in hand in their exposed position.

 

Coye watched over Eitan as he filled his bag with berries till his fingers (and mouth) were stained, and he had bored of it. She shooed him back into the shadows before wading out into the river, and filling their waterskins. They were heavy when full, but she would be able to manage. So long as she didn’t slip on the slick stones underneath her she might be able to get out of this with minimal soaking.

 

She heard a noise to her left, and whipped her head up. She had had to fold back up her cross-shot away to get the water. She glared into the woods on the far side of the river.

 

“Coye?” Eitan called, uncertain. She gritted her teeth, but didn’t turn towards him. She held her breath. She didn’t see anything. An animal perhaps?

 

She wasn’t sure, and didn’t look away from where she heard the noise as she backed up, carefully, towards where Eitan was. “What did I tell you?” she hissed. He clutched her thigh. There was a slight tremble to him.

 

“To be quiet.”

 

She hummed a soothing noise to him, palmed his pale-haired head, and backed them up farther into the shadows of the trees. She kept them stepping back until there wasn’t a clear shot from the river to their position, and then took them on a long, winding route with many backtracks to get back to the hidden cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coye means Quiet, Still  
> Falk means Hawk  
> Eitan means Firm, Strong  
> Amma means Mother
> 
> the cross-shot is basically a small, handheld crossbow that is folded up in a gauntlet. Think like assassin's creed hidden blades, but a small crossbow.
> 
> I imagine the Tenakth tribe area is somewhere in Arizona, as it is south of the Sundom which is roughly in Utah (??). I hate calling the fruit by the current names but I couldn't find anything about what they were called in game. HMU if you know.


	3. Ground to Cover

Coye started making her plans. There was no way that Falk would leave without Amma. She wasn’t sure, still, of their allegiance to each other. It was odd, and unclear. She didn’t know what one had done for the other to ensure such loyalty, but it would take more time than she had to break it.

 

She could, however, try to save the boy.

 

The noise by the river left her on edge for the next day and a half. She checked the perimeter obsessively, and even ventured into the fields to scavenge. It was partly to reassure herself, partly to shore up their defenses, and, partly, to start stocking up on materials for the inevitable. She wasn’t sure, yet, what the inevitable was. She was sure it was something bad. She was sure she was going to fight tooth and nail to ensure she came out on the other side breathing. She wanted the same for the others, but their fates did not rest squarely in her hands.

 

Eitan’s might though. She could take him, and cross the mountains to the North to see what lay beyond. Everyone always spoke of them as weak. Surely that meant that they were kind. Such a thing had not been considered a strength on either side of the reigns of the warlords she had lived through. Falk seemed to have some idea on where they should go, but he wouldn’t tell her. Maybe it was to ensure she wouldn’t abandon them. Just because Falk seemed to accept perishing along side Amma didn’t mean the rest of them had to.

 

Still, she added a couple more traps around the mouth of the hidden cave, and made sure to walk Falk and Eitan through them until she was satisfied they could escape them. She added a rope to the hole in the ceiling for a back door. She started stockpiling food. If they were trapped within by an outside force they would need it. If she left with Eitan, Amma and Falk would.

 

“I should take him,” she said, to Amma, when helping her relieve herself. “I cannot convince Falk that we should move, and we are going to get killed here.”

 

“We will be okay,” Amma said. She was breathing heavy now, and looking pale. She was slick with sweat, and trembled in the careful circle of Coye’s arms. “We need to stick together Coye. We will die if we seperate.”

 

_We will die if we stay_ , Coye was sure of it.

 

She realized, a few days later, that she did not necessarily _need_ Amma’s permission to take Eitan with her. They could just… go.

 

The thought churned her gut. She owed Falk to not do something so underhanded, but at the same time he wouldn’t listen to reason. She had been watching the Bloodied Men’s Maw. Several runners for the warlord had visited. There was no way that they wouldn’t be on the lookout for their group. Already their scouts were walking deeper into the woods more regularly. They would hit the first ring of her traps at any time. The only reason they hadn’t so far was luck. The trail the stranger had been following had been older than her groups occupation of the hidden cave. The fact the Bloodied Men weren’t still using that path was luck as well.

 

She didn’t want to keep relying on it.

 

“Goose,” she said. There was a good supply of food for Amma and Falk. It was late afternoon. It was now or never. “Should we get some more berries?”

 

“Yes,” Eitan said. He had been itching to leave the cave for the last couple of days, but her work hadn’t allowed him to follow. “Please, Mama, can I?” he asked, clutching Amma’s arm. She gave Coye a searching look that Coye, of course, did not meet. She paused in her mending of Eitan’s stuffed fox.

 

“I don’t know…” Amma looked to Falk.

 

“Might as well. It looks like it is going to storm tomorrow. They won’t be able to,” Falk didn’t look up from where he was attempting to make a spear. He was exhausted. Him and Amma both. It had been a rough night for the expecting woman. “I will be good for him,” he added, gently, to Amma’s worried face. Finally she relented.

 

“Just be carefully baby,” she said, and Eitan kissed her cheek.

 

Coye couldn’t believe her luck. “Get the packs Goose,” she said, and stood. He grabbed them, and reached for the waterskins too. “Just grab the empty one,” she said. Falk and Amma would need the other two.

 

“Coye?” Falk called when the two of them got to the mouth of the cave. Her lungs seized. The other two waterskins could use a refill, he was suspicious, he- “Don’t be gone too long. The clouds will make it dark early.”

 

She snorted. “I know that,” she snapped, but it was to hide her relief. “Come on Goose.” She let him take her hand, and they exited. She led them down, and away. They could cross the river, and hug around the edge of the woods until they found a good place to get up the foothills to the mountains. From what she had seen the Bloodied Men had stripped the hills of resources. It would make it hard to sneak through, but not impossible in the dark.

 

“Where are we going?” Eitan asked when they hit the river, and she, after her tentative emergence, carried him across.

 

“Farther out. Can’t leave a big sign of us here. It’s too close,” she said. He believed her, and held tight as she carried him. She’d have to tell him when they hit the edge of the woods. Hopefully he would understand. She wouldn’t want to have to drag him over the mountains.

 

Coye refilled the waterskin, and led him to the shadows once they were on the other side. Eitan didn’t voice any more concerns.

 

“It’s getting dark,” he said. They had been walking for a while. An hour? Two? It was hard to judge without climbing a tree, and with the impending clouds. It could very well be an hour or two from sundown, and their safest bet for getting into the mountains.

 

“It will make it safer to get back to the cave,” she replied. She glanced at his face. He was looking back the way they had come, but it would be nothing more than incomprehensible forest to him. He reached for her hand.

 

“Falk said to be back before then.”

 

Coye sighed, and she knelt. “Goose...Eitan,” she said, and made herself look at him. His eyes were wide. His lip was trembling. “Amma, your mother, wanted me to take you away. It isn’t safe in the cave.” His brow furrowed. He was confused, but her words slowly started to make sense.

 

“What about Mama and Falk?”

 

“She can’t walk, and he won’t leave her.”

 

“I don’t want to either!” he wailed. She grabbed his wrists as he tried to turn and bolt.

 

“This is the only way,” she said. He struggled against her, but she was stronger. Finally Coye pulled some rope, and tied his arms to his sides. She picked him up. He would understand when he was older because this is the only way he’d make it to older.

 

Still she lost time quieting him, and even more having to carry him.

 

“I want to go back,” he said for the billionth time into her shoulder. She sighed.

 

“I know Goose.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, and she clucked her tongue.

 

They reached the edge of the woods, and she found them a good spot to settle down. She made sure he was comfortable, and quiet, before she ventured out just a bit.

 

It was dark, and there was a wind whipping up. It was going to be fury of a storm. She decided to wait for it to start up before trying to get them across.

 

“If I untie you will you walk by yourself?” she asked when she returned to him.

 

“I hate you,” he said. His voice was scratchy, his eyes were puffy, and his nose raw from where he had wiped it, repeatedly, on her shirt. She sighed, and untied him. He didn’t try to run.

 

“This is for the best,” she said. They sat, and they waited for the storm.

 

It had started sprinkling when the plan came crashing down. Or, more specifically, crashing through the woods. “Coye! Eitan!”

 

“Falk!” Eitan shouted even as Coye lunged to cover his mouth. The damage was done, and the crashing came closer.

 

“There you both are, are you hurt?” Falk said as he fell to his knees before Eitan. Eitan lunged at him, and clunge to him. Coye shrank back. She felt Falk’s gaze fall on her like a blow, and wanted nothing more than to look away from where she had accidentally caught his gaze. “What happened? Were you attacked?”

 

“She was running away! She was trying to steal me!” Eitan cried. Falk’s grip tightened on him, and his eyes narrowed on her.

 

“We are all going to die here,” Coye snarled. Her pulse was thudding, and she wanted to lash out, but she couldn’t look away from the anger and pain and disappointment in Falk’s eyes and it _hurt_ it _hurt_ like a physical thing.

 

“Not if we stick together Coye. It’s how we got out, how we are going to get away,” Falk said. His voice was shaking with how mad he was, and he was breathless from chasing them down. Coye gripped her braid, and pulled. She hated the churning in her gut.

 

“She is going to die, and so are both of you if you stay,” she hissed.

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“You have a better chance if you run with me now. There is food, she won’t starve she-” Coye snapped her mouth closed and went ramrod straight when Falk slammed his fist into the nearest trunk.

 

“Blast it all Coye, there are things worth chancing!” he shouted. She flinched, and sprung to his feet. “I’ve been trying to make you understand for so long but All Mother preserve you, you refuse to _get it!”_

 

“I’m leaving,” she said. Her tone was flat. He growled.

 

“Coye, come back to the cave, we will figure something out, please-”

 

“No, I am not going to die for whatever allegiance you have. It isn’t worth your lives, and it isn’t worth mine.”

 

“Coye-”

 

There was an explosion to the south of them. It was faint, but it was loud enough to cut through them. They turned their gaze, and there was already fire rising in the forest. It was in the vicinity of the hidden cave.

 

“Amma,” Falk whispered, and then he was running as fast as he could with Eitan in his arms. Coye followed after a moment’s hesitance. She was furious, but now that he was here she didn’t want to forsake him. She hated it, hated the squirming in her stomach, hated the whole damn world, but she followed him.

 

They didn’t talk. They just ran.

 

However long it had taken for her to get to the edge of the forest, it took a fraction of the time to get back to the cave. Had she truly been so leisurely in her escape with Eitan? Or was Falk’s worry making her faster?

 

It must have been blaze that set the explosion off. It was pouring now, and Coye wasn’t sure when it had started. The rain didn’t do anything to dull the flames, and it was an easy beacon for them to follow in the dark.

 

They skidded to a stop at the river. Falk dropped Eitan down from his back onto the ground. His bad leg was shaking like the leaves from the wind. “Stay here. Give him your pack. If we aren’t back by morning go to where Coye brought you. Get over the mountains,” he said.

 

“But-”

 

“I love you,” Falk said, holding Eitan’s face in his hands. “Your mother does too, so much. That’s why you need to stay safe while we go help her. Can you do that?”

 

“I’ll stay here,” Eitan sobbed. Coye dropped the packs and the wineskin. She also gave Falk her dagger.

 

“Stay in the bushes, there,” Coye told him, and pointed to the thick undergrowth under a large tree.

 

“I hate you,” he sobbed at her, but took the supplies and obeyed. They didn’t wait for him to be hidden again before they were running again. Falk let her take the lead so they would not end up tangled in her traps. Now and then one would be triggered. They didn’t stop to see how its occupant faired.

 

They were firmly in the ring of red traps where it started to seem all was not as it appeared to be. There were bodies, many of them. Most had a single arrow in them. Some had more. All were dead. Even the ones that were in her traps were shot through. Maybe twenty people they passed.

 

They slowed to a walk, and tried to slow their breathing.

 

The worst concentration was at the mouth of the hidden cave. They were piled one on each other to the point Falk had to pull them aside for them to enter. Coye’s cross-shot was in her hands. The number here brought it up to somewhere around thirty five. How many would be left at the Maw?

 

“Easy now,” they heard from in the cave, and every hair on her neck stood on end. Falk shoved passed her.

 

“Amma,” he snarled, the dagger aloft in his hand. Coye was close behind him. The entrance was slick with blood.

 

“Where is Eitan?” Amma gasped. “I’m alright, where is Eitan?”

 

She was pale, and her face was slick with sweat. She was trembling, and clutching, white knuckled, to the arms of the stranger Coye had caught in her trap nearly a week ago. Amma looked at her, her eyes murderous, and groaned.

 

“Kill her,” she demanded of the stranger. There was blood between her legs where she was reclined on the ground against the stranger. Coye stared at the stranger, stared him right in the eye, and prepared her grip on her cross-shot.

 

Falk broke the tension before it could break itself. He dropped Coye’s dagger with a clatter as he moved.

 

“Eitan is safe. I will go for him in a minute. What is happening?” he demanded, and dropped down to her side. One of her hands gripped his instantly, and his free one rested on her stomach.

 

“She’s coming,” Amma gritted out, and then groaned again. “Get Eitan. Don’t let her do it. Kill her,” she demanded, again, to the stranger. Coye scowled, and collected her dagger. She sheathed it, and her sword, but kept her cross-shot at the ready. The stranger’s bow was not in his hands, and even if it was he would have to notch an arrow. “She stole him, kill her!”

 

“Don’t,” Falk said, on a sigh. “Don’t worry about that right now. I can get Eitan after we make sure you are okay.”

 

“No, there are still them out there. Leave me, get him. Don’t let her anywhere near him again,” Amma said. She let out a short shout, and curled up over her stomach.

 

“I’ll get him,” the stranger said.

 

“No,” Coye and Falk said.

 

“I trust Coye more than whoever this is,” Falk added.

 

“And I trust him more than that Stalker in our midsts,” Amma snarled. Falk cursed softly, and wiped some of the sweat off of her face.

 

“Both of you. Go get him. We don’t have time to argue Coye, and you have a lot of blasted ground to make up for. Don’t kill each other, we are going to need you. We are in debt to you stranger. I’m afraid this isn’t the best time to show it. I hope you are worth the trust she is placing in you,” Falk said. With effort he got Amma into his arms, and brought her back over to the pallet they had made from the blankets. He was careful when he set her back down. “Focus on me now Amma.”

 

Coye glared at the stranger. He kept his eyes on hers as he carefully reached for his bow, and slung it across his shoulder. “If you are going to shoot me do it in the front.”

 

“Only if you do the same,” she hissed after a moment. He was the one to kill all the men. The arrows in his quiver were the same, and his hands were coated in blood. He set every one of her nerves on edge.

 

But she had a lot of ground to make up for now.

 

“You are still here? Go! And don’t let him inside when you get back,” Falk shouted at them even as Amma bit into his shoulder with another scream.

 

Coye folded up her cross-shot, turned, and led the way out. She at least waited until the stranger had passed before setting up a trap, one that would kill, in front of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you guys liking this?  
> I'm not proofreading because I'm literally posting these as I write them. Let me know any serious fuck ups, or confusing sentences.  
> Also Amma is like... eight months along? Somewhere around there.


	4. Regroup

“Who are you? Why are you covered in blood?” Eitan asked from where he had climbed up the tree they had left him under. Coye hadn’t been able to get him to come down yet.

 

“You can call me Nil. I-”

 

“He helped your mother,” Coye said. Eitan kept his eyes narrowed down at them. “We are going to head back now. Come down, she is waiting.”

 

“Where is Falk? He is covered in blood. You are covered in blood!” Eitan demanded, and then pointed an accusing finger at the stranger. Nil. It had been a tense walk towards the river. He hadn’t bothered to wash when they crossed even though Coye had. They had moved the bodies away from the entrance, and off where Eitan wouldn’t see them upon their return.

 

“Would you feel better if I washed it off?” Nil asked. Eitan scowled, and held tight to the trunk of the tree.

 

“Come down,” Coye said, again.

 

“No.”

 

“I can make you, and you know it.”

 

“No!” Eitan shouted, and started to climb higher. Coye scowled, and started to climb up after him. Nil stepped back towards the river, and watched.

 

It didn’t take Coye long to catch him. She grabbed him by the waist, and picked a large branch. She set him against on it, and against the trunk. He smacked at her arms the entire time. “Enough.”

 

“You tried to take me!” he screamed, and he was crying again. He was shivering from the cold rain, and wet to the bone.

 

“I did,” she agreed, staring at the branch beneath them. She debated trying to explain to him that it was right for her to do. It’s what her mother did when her father proved weak. Its what the warlord did when-

 

Well.

 

“I didn’t want you to die,” she said, quietly. “I can’t… where we are, in everything, is like on a knife. Amma and Falk are falling to one side, and I thought I was on the edge of it. I didn’t want them to make you fall too.”

 

“I don’t care,” he said, but it was watery. He wasn’t shouting now.

 

“Probably not. I was… wrong. I should not have taken you. But I did. Now I have to take you back because Falk told me to.”

 

“I don’t trust you.”

 

“If I let you carry my dagger, and lead the way, will you come down?” she asked. He thought about it.

 

“Your sword.”

 

“Absolutely not,” she snapped. He made an angry noise. “I don’t have time to explain to you why that isn’t going to happen. My dagger, or I tie you up again and have that man carry you.”

 

“Who is he?” Eitan asked, quietly.

 

“I don’t know,” she said, just as quietly. “He was the one I caught in my trap last week. He… helped.”

 

“Does Falk trust him?”

 

“No, but your mother does,” Coye said. She glanced at Eitan’s face to see him watching the man below. It was hard to see his face in the dark, but his, strange, white armor made him easy enough to spot.

 

“I’ll carry your dagger,” Eitan grumbled at length.

 

“Good. Do you need help getting down?”

 

“No,” he snapped. After she descended a few branches he grumpily added, “Yes.”

 

Once on the ground she untied her dagger, sheath and all, from around her waist. She knelt, and tied it to Eitan’s. “Careful not to trip on it.”

 

“I won’t,” he said, and crossed his arms over his chest. He stared Nil down as Coye collected the pack, and waterskin he had left in the bushes at the base of the tree.

 

“Can you find the start of the red ring?” she asked Eitan.

 

“I want to go the usual way.”

 

“The usual way isn’t safe,” Coye said. It was also much more full of bodies than the other way she was talking about. “Let’s go the red ring way.”

 

“Fine!” Eitan snapped, and threw his hands in the air. He stomped towards the river. Coye was quick to sweep him back up in her arms so they could cross without him being swept away. “I can do it,” he said.

 

“I don’t want you waterlogging my sheath,” was her cool reply. Nil, clear of blood, followed them across. Coye set Eitan on his feet when they were safe across. “As we go, look out for hintergold, and wild ember,” she said. “Do you remember what they look like?”

 

“Yes. Red flowers.”

 

“Good. On your lead then,” she said. He nodded, and took charge. He knew they way decently well, and, though irritable, accepted her guidance when he strayed. Nil was silent for the most part, and simply watched. Coye ignored him for the most part. She was hyper aware of the movements of his arms, but aside from that paid him no mind. If she did she would be tempted to shoot him again. It rankled at her to have a stranger in their midsts even if he had saved Amma.

 

The three of them collected medicine along the way. The pack was half full by the time they returned to the hidden cave.

 

“Wait,” Coye said, and caught Eitan as he started to run forwards. “We can’t go in yet.”

 

“I want to see Mama,” he said, and fought against her hold. She simply swept him up again, and brought him to the right of the entrance where there was a smaller cave. It was just enough to hide them from immediate sight. It was no longer pouring, but it hadn’t stopped raining. Eitan stopped when they heard a pained noise from in the cave. He froze.

 

“What happened? What is happening?” he asked, and his voice had pitched itself high.

 

“The baby,” Coye responded. It soothed Eitan a little. Perhaps he had thought her horribly wounded. Still, he was nervous.

 

“It is probably safe enough for a fire,” Nil said, at length.

 

“Go get some of the wood from inside, then,” Coye replied, not looking at him. He chuckled.

 

“And risk a mother’s wrath for leaving a child thief with her child? Hardly.”

 

“Then endure the cold,” Coye hissed.

 

“I’m cold,” Eitan said after a few, long, minutes. Coye sighed, and glared at Nil’s shoulder.

 

“Yell if he does anything. You have my dagger,” she said, and stood. She brought the pack with her.

 

Amma was not looking well. Falk had the fire inside blazing, and water in a metal container boiling over it. There was a sharp smell of fresh blood in the air. The two glanced up at her entrance.

 

“Eitan?” Amma demanded through her labored breathing.

 

“Waiting outside. I came for some firewood. We brought these,” Coye said, and passed the bag of medicine to Falk. His hands were bloody.

 

“That is good. Throw some hintergold in one of the waterskins. It will help, after. Take that off if it is boiling, it will need to cool,” he ordered. “It shouldn’t be long now.” Coye did as asked, and then grabbed an armful of wood. She also grabbed Eitan’s fox.

 

When she returned outside the two were sitting with a cautious (on Eitan’s part) distance between them. She set the wood up in a pyramid, took out a very small vial of blaze she had, and set it. With the rain coming down so hard the smoke wouldn’t be able to be seen. There was a threat from the light of the fire, though, so Coye climbed above. She found a couple of branches still heavy with leaves that had fallen some time ago. She pulled them back to the edge, and dropped them. By the time she climbed back down Nil had come out. He helped her hide the entrance to the smaller cave.

 

“Those were your Bloodied Men then?” he asked as they worked. “Not all of them, of course.”

 

“Should be most,” she said in staccato.

 

“No, they have been amassing at that fort not far from here for a few days. I do wonder if you four have anything to do with that,” he said. She side-eyed him, but he was focused on his placement. “Not that it matters all that much to me. I have my prey now, and intent to follow through with the shot soon enough.” He paused, looked at her, and gave a sort of half smile. She looked away. “Perhaps you would be interested in joining me.”

 

“You’re presumptuous.”

 

“And you are all to ready to shoot a threat. Your blood was singing when you came upon me with your friend.”

 

“She isn’t my friend.”

 

“Nevertheless, the others will be missing theirs. It will only be a matter of time before they coming looking. I don’t imagine your group will be able to move any time too soon with everything that is going on,” he hummed. She scowled at her fingers as she deftly weaved some of the more pliable, smaller branches together on two larger ones to make more of a door. “I am sure I could dispose of the vermin in that place myself, but I imagine you would be a sight to behold in battle. Besides, it never hurts to have a partner for such a thing.”

 

Again, Coye said nothing. He had a dangerous look about him, this man. Nothing overt. Eitan called her a Stalker sometimes. She imagined the term would be more fitting for this Nil. She knew her own abilities, and that of her... companions. She also knew he was right on both the points he had made. The others would come soon, and Amma would not be able to be moved. That is, if she even lived. But there was a certain surety in Nil that she wasn’t used to. He wasn’t bragging. He believed he would be able to do it all on his own.

 

“I would need to talk to Falk,” Coye said, after a few moments where they simply stood in the rain. She felt he was watching her, but she was staring at the leaves before her in thought. She shook herself after a moment, and pushed past him to re-enter the smaller cave. Eitan was cuddled close to the fire with his fox. “Here, take your shirt off,” she said. “Pants too. Let’s dry them.”

 

Eitan obeyed, and she managed to hang them on some rough juts of rock over the fire. The droplets that fell from them hissed as they hit the flames. Nil rejoined them as Coye started removing the protective skirts around her tight pants. The pants themselves ended just under her knee, and only the very edge was wet from the river. The rest had been protected from the rain by the skirts. She seperated the thick bottom skirt made from leather from the lighter top. She hung both up after check her pockets in the light one to ensure nothing had been ruined. Finally she set her thigh guards against the far wall from the fire. They were made of rope and metal. She didn’t fear too much for them aside from rusting. She also removed her right arm paldron. The leather underneath was mostly waterproof, but it was uncomfortable having the water that had gotten under it trapped between it, and her arm. She left her shirt aside from the sleeve that tied to the front from across her back, and over her shoulder. It was to help protect her shoulder from chafing from the armor. She untied that so it would dry. Her sword she re-tied around her mostly bared waist.

 

Finally she removed the gauntlet. First came the hand piece that was a metal mesh glove. It helped protect her hand from potentially being jabbed with her own darts should something go astray while shooting. Second she undid the many complicated buckles to release her forearm. Her arm felt light once it was removed, and the skin there was even paler than the rest of her. It was so rare she had taken it off in the last two months. She extended the cross shot to make sure it had not been damaged by the water. It hadn’t. She set it aside to dry.

 

“Is that an Oseram weapon?” Nil asked. He had removed his upper clothing and armor, as well as his thigh guards. His pants and helmet remained though the red feathers look a bit wilted.

 

“I do not know what an Oseram is, but it is my weapon all the same,” she said, simply.

 

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t so far from the Claim,” he said, but more to himself.

 

The last thing she check was her sword. It was nearly the length of her arm. The guard was a simple metal piece was extended the same distance on each side. The grip had been re-wrapped in fresh leather just before their escape from the fortress, and the pommel was an unadorned orb. The edges were sharp as sound thanks to her constant attention. The fuller in the center was a touch shallower than Tenakth standards. Whatever machine the original metal had come from had been lost somewhere along her line, but it was the same blade at the core that it had been for generations.  _ Addhéma _ , Coye thought, and flicked her nail against the blade to hear it sing a short note in return. Checked the sheath. It was dry inside. She returned Addhéma to her scabbard.

 

“Give me my dagger for a moment,” she said to Eitan. She noticed then that the two had been watching her, and scowled at them. Eitan was embarrassed enough to be caught spying that he just handed the dagger over. She didn’t generally allow him to watch as she tended to her weapons. He didn’t understand why yet, but he was aware of the privacy around it. However, if she was to be killing men with Nil before long, she needed to make sure everything was in order. Nil himself didn’t feel any self-conscious about observing from what she could tell, but she also imagined he wouldn’t know what an intimacy it was to see a Tenakth warrior with her blade when not in a fight.

 

The dagger was nameless, and also dry in its sheath. The rope at its hilt was soaked, but she usually ended up with it wet in a fight. She did not have the speed Nil would have with his bow with her cross-shot, but her dagger offered her a nice alternative in the medium range. The rope always allowed her to draw it back to herself. There weren’t many Tenakth that used the roped dagger. Not many expected it when it came for them.

 

Satisfied she handed it back to Eitan for safe keeping. All there was to do now, was to wait.

 

And wait they did until the early hours of the morning with nothing, but the rain, Amma’s pained noises, and Falk’s voice, too low to understand, to accompany them. Just as the world was starting to lighten enough for one to see a few trees in, and the rain quieted enough to be but a suggestion, they heard it. Crying from inside.

 

Eitan was up, and passed her before she could stop him. Coye hissed in annoyance, and chased him. She heard Nil stand, but wasn’t sure if he followed.

 

Inside the cave Falk had an infant in his arms, and was washing them off with some of the water from the cooling pot. The baby was screaming at the sensation. Amma, exhausted, was leaning back against the wall with a blanket over her. She was crying without really seeing. She held a silent bundle in her arms.

 

“Mama,” Eitan said, and ran to her side.

 

“Be easy with her,” Falk warned.

 

“Mama, are you okay? What is wrong with her?” Eitan asked, peering at the bundle in her arms. Amma let out a shaky breath, and looked at Eitan. Her lip trembled, and she threw one of her arms around him. “Mama?”

 

“It’s okay Eitan,” Falk said, gently. Just as gently he eased the silent bundle out of Amma’s other arm. “It’s okay,” Falk said, again, when she resisted. The fight left her. Falk eased the squalling child into the spot its sibling had left, and then pulled the blanket up over them. Finally he stood, and joined Coye.

 

“It didn’t make it,” Coye said.

 

“She. The other one is strong and healthy,” Falk said. He sighed down at the bundle in his arms. Coye looked. The babe’s face was blue, and waxy. “I didn’t know there were two.”

 

“One is alive,” Coye said. Falk nodded. He pulled the cloth around to cover the still face. He set it, gently, next to the fire. He took Coye by the elbow, and they returned outside. He was trembling with fatigue.

 

They stood, looking out at the forest.

 

“I need to go kill the rest,” she said at length. Falk covered his eyes with a hand. “The man, Nil, asked for my help.”

 

“I don’t know what to say.”

 

“It’s what you wanted,” she said.

 

“I know.”

 

“It has to be done.”

 

“I  _ know, _ ” he said again. He let out a shaky breath. “I should be going, not you.”

 

“You’d be killed.”

 

“You could be.”

 

She snorted, and looked at him. “Nil claims he can do it himself.”

 

“You believe him?” They both glanced over to where Nil was lingering by the other cave.

 

“I know he believes it. I know he, and thus us, would have a better chance if I went with him,” she whispered. She wasn’t entirely sure Nil couldn’t hear them, but he at least had the grace to not look like he was listening.

 

“Then do it,” Falk said. She glanced at his face. His eyes were hard. “Make them suffer.” Coye palmed the pommel of Addhéma, and felt a vicious swell in her.

 

“I can do that,” she said. Falk nodded, and touched her shoulder.

 

“I will get the rest of the herbs,” he said, and went back in. 

 

Nil was next to her before Falk was completely out of sight. She had no issue, in this moment, holding his gaze. He must have seen in her eyes what she saw in his. The viciousness moved higher. There was a smiling being suggested on her mouth. “I expect,” he breathed, and it was warm across her face. “That this is going to be a pleasant hunt.”

 

There was a thrum in her blood that told her she agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad people seem to be liking this.
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiphos is what her sword is based off of.
> 
> I did so much research on swords and armor. and by so much i mean i skimmed wiki but you know


	5. Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super pleased with this chapter, but it has been kicking around in my head for a couple of days. I think it is one that just had to get written despite me wanting to take more time with it, you feel? I think I am going to try to finish this one because I have a pretty clear path in my head I want it to take.

 

She was beautiful. The thought took Nil by surprise. He found beauty in the straight lines of an arrow, of the hiss as it flew, of the gently brush across his cheek from the fletching, and of blood on grass. It was not that he hadn’t found her aesthetically appealing when first caught up in her ropes, but, now, in the soft morning light and covered in blood she was beautiful.

 

They had rallied quickly after she had decided to join him. He had watched her when she had undressed, and had noted, in a detached way, the silvery scars on her forearms. She had three jagged ones on her left hip that disappeared under her pants. He wasn’t positive of their origin. She had been methodical with her assessment of her equipment. There had been reverence with her sword he hadn’t seen before.

 

Her hands had shook when she had pulled it all back on. It had only taken a quick look at her face to know she wasn’t scared. There was bloodlust there, and her mouth was constantly threatening on a smile.

 

The man Falk gave them what was left of the healing herbs. Coye had taken time to set up several more traps between the entrance of the cave, and the forest. They didn’t have the look of anything that would simply catch someone, as the others had.

 

Nil had hummed remembering how the Bloodied Men had shouted when springing her traps, and how easily it had been for him to silence them once they were caught. He had not meant to meet with Coye again, or her company at all. But the line of armed men with torches to find their way had interested him. He was viciously glad he had found her again, now, that he had seen how she had danced.

 

They had stopped in the long grass before the burnt land leading up to the stronghold. She had called it the Maw, and it seemed fitting. It was also in a cave, but the mouth of it was many more times the size of the hidden place they had come from. Teeth of rocks lined the top and bottom of the opening, and the Bloodied Men were relatively safe in the dark dryness of the cave.

 

“This way. If we are seen they will set off charged that will make the rocks fall,” Coye had whispered next to him. He hummed in understanding, and followed. She was soundless as she moved-- no as she stalked her way to her destination. They had gone far around to the right of the cave, careful to stay in the deeper darkness of the trees, and then across the burnt expanse where they were not seen. They had darted from rock outcropping to rock outcropping until they climbed up a series of ledges. There had been a short, narrow opening at the top of the climb.

 

“Surely this will be guarded,” he had murmured.

 

“Perhaps. Shouldn’t be a problem if it had been found,” she had said, and he had looked at her.

 

“Not your first visit?”

 

She hadn’t answered, and they had entered from there. There had been two guards, but they had been playing a betting game. Her dagger took out the throat of one, and one of his arrows took out the other.

 

It had not been all that difficult from there. He had allowed her to lead, and had allowed himself to watch. Her second kill had been in a graceful spin that had sent her skirts billowing out. His blood had splattered across her face, and the wall as he had fallen. She had spat as if some had gotten in her mouth. He was sure he had heard that the Tenakth drank blood, but he was not so sure now.

 

They had worked through half the camp before she had even had to draw her sword. He had thought her talented with her dagger. He had been blind. She was an artist with her sword. Not a single swing had ended with anything but another crimson line across her and the surrounding area. She rarely took more than one slash at a man. A few had fallen before they had realized they had been hit.

 

It wasn’t to say that he didn’t kill his own share of these Bloodied Men. But, somehow, for the first time perhaps, his method seemed to be… lacking. She had not seemed to hum contently with each throat shot he landed. Her eyes had not been trained on his targets to see him work.

 

Aloy had appreciated his talent with his bow, even if she hadn’t appreciated his art. Aloy too had been aesthetically pleasing, but she did not have the sharp smile Coye wore as she cut men down. It was not that he was comparing the two. There wasn’t a comparison. They were too entirely different creatures.

 

Aloy had waited till the end to wound him, after all, and Coye was doing it now with her disregard.

 

It was perhaps that pain that made him realize he was going to partner her if possible. She was an artist, and perhaps she would come to appreciate his methods well, in time. Perhaps she was to wary of him, rightly so, to really give it thought.

 

“Nice shot,” she said. She wasn’t looking at him. His breath stuttered. How stupid of him. He had seen how clever she was with her cuts. How could he think her words would be any different?

 

“I don’t have words for your sword play,” he replied smoothly. She snorted. She glistened with red in the light. He was staring.

 

“The lead wasn’t here,” she said. They were standing in the light before the mouth of the cave, and looking out into the forest.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I know him. Knew him. Unless he had been overthrown in the last couple months, but I don’t think so.”

 

“We will wait for him then?” he asked. She bared her teeth in what could possibly be a smile. Her teeth were startling white against the stain on her lips. He chuckled. They waited.

 

The lead did not leave them for long. He came stomping out of the forest with ten men. The group pulled up short when they noticed Coye and Nil standing there.

 

“You,” the lead snarled. “I’m going to present your head to the Warlord.”

 

“I’m going to leave your blood in the dirt,” she said. She didn’t shout as he had, but her voice hissed in a way that filled the air more fully.

 

“You, go tell the Warlord I’ve found-” Nil didn’t let the man finish his sentence, or the woman he was ordering to leave. She fell, dead, at his feet. Coye let out a soft laugh at his side even as the lead whirled on them.

 

“Face me Stave,” Coye said, and shook off her mirth. Her blade did not shine in the sun. It had too much dried blood on it.

 

The lead, Stave, did not move right away. His remaining entourage looked at him. “Get her,” he finally said.

 

The group hesitated. “Shall I see how many I get before they reach you?” Nil asked. He burned with the thought of her complimenting his skill again. Oh, yes, he would partner her even if he had to trail her like he had Aloy for the chance to see her act again.

 

“If you wish,” she replied. Her sword was still, and steady down at her side:a threat and a promise. She was beautiful.

 

Of the nine that remained he brought down seven before they reached her. Four by an arrow to the heart, two to the throat, and the last by the eye. Coye took two out with a single sweep of her sword.

 

The last had held back, and attempted to charge her at the end of her blade’s arch. Her other hand threw out her dagger. It landed solidly in his chest, and she snapped it back to her hand with its rope. His momentum had him landing at her feet. She stepped over him as she advanced towards Stave.

 

“Very well. Only line weapons then,” the man said at length.

 

“Agreed.” Coye said, sheathed her dagger, and waited for him.

 

He took a breath, and pulled out a huge, two handed blade. “I will take from you the Warlord could not.”

 

“There is nothing that anyone can take of me,” she snarled (it set Nil’s blood on fire), and lunged forwards. He turned with her blade. Her braid whipped him in the face as she danced away from his returning swing.

 

“The Warlord was a fool to raise you up as he did. I will correct it by bringing you down weak blood,” he growled in frustration. His following swings were faster, but not fast enough. She continued to dance away from them.

 

Finally she struck. The tip of her sword left a deep cut across his cheek, and caught his ear. The lobe was left dangling. He kicked her back. She rolled with the fall, and ended up back on her feet.

 

Almost as quick as her he pulled a dagger from his belt and threw it at her. It cut across her bicep.

 

“Term-breaker,” she snarled, and charged him. He was prepared. His sword was up, and arching down towards her. Nil had an arrow notched, and ready, but Coye was faster.

 

Her gauntleted hand shot up, and caught the blade. There was a dull crunch, but a second later her own sword was plunged into Stave’s stomach. Nil relaxed his arrow.

 

Coye pushed him off her, and to the side. He fell with a gurgle, and Nil joined her.

 

“Take my blood,” Stave coughed. Coye looked down at him like he was something she wanted to avoid stepping in. Finally, she crouch. She twisted her sword that was still in his stomach, and he screamed.

 

“I said I was going to leave your blood in the dirt,” she said. Her voice was flat in a way that Nil admired.

 

“Take my strength, take my legacy,” Stave begged. She leaned in, and something like relief spread on his face.

 

“You have nothing I want,” Coye said. She stood, and removed her sword in one smooth motion. She held his eyes as she pulled a cloth from one of her pockets, and cleaned his blood from his sword. “I will not make my blood weaker with yours.” The cloth, stained with blood, fell from her hand and into the mud below.

 

Nil’s blood screamed with her wild, vicious beauty as Coye sheathed her sword, and walked away. He followed. There was no other path he could see from her brilliance.


	6. Time to Move

Coye washed the blood off at the first stream they came too. She could revel in it with the best of them, but once it started to become tacky she couldn’t stand it. Especially when it wasn’t worth the spanse of her skin. Nil had been mostly quiet as they walked. He had hummed now and then, but had not said anything. It was a strange change of pace compared to the others.

 

“You are bleeding,” he offered from where he sat watching. He hadn’t started to clean himself yet. She looked at her arm where Stave’s dagger had cut her. She clucked her tongue at it, and rinsed it again. It wasn’t clotting, and was deeper than she had thought at first. Her adrenaline was wearing off, and she was being left with aches and fatigue. “I can stitch it, if you wish,” Nil said. He was close, suddenly, and reached for her arm. She smacked his hand away with a hiss.

 

“Don’t touch my blood,” she snarled. It caught him off guard, and he held his hands up in a placating gesture.

 

He was not Tenakth despite the way his blood sang. He could be, but he was missing a lot of background to be one. She found herself adding yet to the end of the thought, and how easy it would for him to be Tenakth. But it wasn’t her place to bring him into the fold, currently, nor her desire at the moment. 

 

Tenakth were made by bond and by blood after all. But she couldn’t decide now if he was worth that. She had enough to worry about.

 

Still, he had been a solid partner in the fight. “You can’t know what it means,” she offered, lamely, and then snorted at her own explanation. He hummed in agreement, and finally started to wash himself off. She tied a cloth around her arm for now. Falk could stitch it for her. For now the cloth would do, and she chewed some ember for the sting.

 

“That was me,” Nil offered when they came to a decimated circle of trees. “Saw they had an impressive amount of blaze in a cart. Didn’t want to deal with it individually.” She nodded at his explanation, and remembered the explosion that had drawn her, Falk, and Eitan back to Amma. Her mind snagged on one word.

 

“A cart?” she asked.

 

“Yes. It was full of canisters.”

 

“Was there another at the Maw?” she asked.

 

“I think I remember seeing one or two,” he said while studying her face, “Ah, to carry the mother.”

 

“We can’t stay here,” Coye agreed. With a heavy sigh she turned them around to try to find one.

 

It was noon by the time they got back to the hidden cave. She left the cart a distance away to it wouldn’t lead immediately to them.

 

“They are back!” she heard Eitan call from inside as they approached. Just as quick was a shush, and then Falk was peeking out. He let out a breath like it was punched from him.

 

“You were gone for so long. I worried,” he said, and limped out to greet them. He zeroed in on her wound instantly, and started worrying about it.

 

“Needs stitches,” Nil supplied.

 

“So it does.”

 

“We found a cart, so that we can keep moving,” Coye said, and scrubbed at her eyes. They should be off, the farther they got from here the better, and-

 

“Come in, sit, let me tend to you. We will sleep until we wake up, and then see where we are all at. Amma isn’t… We buried the baby,” Falk said. His shoulders weighed themselves down. Coye looked away, but obeyed.

 

Eitan was vibrating in place, it seemed, as he waited for them to sit. “What happened?” he asked as soon as Falk stopped directing Coye how to sit.

 

“We killed them,” she said.

 

“What else?”

 

“Stave is dead,” Coye said on a yawn that cracked her jaw. Falk handed her the soiled cloth she had bound her arm with. She threw it in the fire.

 

“Good,” Amma mumbled from the far wall. Nil sat nearby. Nearer than he had been before the fight, but not so much that Coye bristled. Noticing herself not bristling caused her to. She was tired, yes, but he was still largely an unknown.

 

The first prick of the needle distracted her, and she hissed. “Better than bleeding out,” Falk said. Still, he was quick and efficient. He used a singled cloth to keep blood from getting everywhere, and to clean his hands off. He then used water to get what the cloth didn’t. He let her inspect his hands for anything he missed.

 

“Alright, go sleep. I will keep watch,” Falk said as she tossed the new ruined cloth into the fire.

 

“You are more tired than me,” she said.

 

“I can do it,” Eitan said. “I slept the entire time you were gone while Falk held the baby for Mama. I will wake everyone up if something happens.”

 

It was a good indication on how tired they all were by how little argument was put up for that.

 

Coye noticed, again, Nil drawing closer than he had before. Not so much to set her off, but certainly closer. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. He was a good shot with his bow, at least. She didn’t think about it too much. She was asleep pretty quickly.

 

It was noon when she woke again. Perhaps the next day? Hopefully not the one after. She heard Falk and Nil talking, but did not focus in on it. Nil was sitting by the fire, and poking at it with a stick. It seemed he was making the sparks dance for the fun of it. Falk was with him. Amma, Eitan, and the infant were curled up together at the back wall. Amma had bags under her eyes that looked like bruises.

 

Coye clicked her tongue and looked away. She didn’t want to think about bruised eyes. Amma had had plenty because of the warlord. It hadn’t been her business, but Falk had asked her for help. Here she was.

 

“I worried, you being Carja, but you helped Amma... The Red Raids are over though,” Falk said, quietly. He seemed in a daze. Coye sat with them. “And the world almost ended.”

 

“I’ve been sharing the news from the north,” Nil shared. Falk took a shuddered breath, and rubbed his face.

 

“The Red Raids are over,” he said. His voice was raw. Coye knew that Falk was not from the Tenakth, and from the north. He had been picked up when he had crossed the mountains by the Warlord’s men, and brought to his fortress. He had been passed around in roles, deemed unfit of Tenakth, and finally made into a craftsman. He was good with his hands. Coye didn’t know what the Red Raids were, but they had brought Falk to her. “What of… How is the rest of the world?”

 

“Everyone took a hit, and everyone broke a bit. They are all healing,” Nil said. Falk’s hands were shaking.

 

“And this new King?”

 

“Soft, but fair,” Nil hummed. “A good king, I suppose. Means little to me,” he shrugged. “He has forged ties with the Oseram, and even the Nora.”

 

“The Nora?” Falk asked, shocked. Nil nodded. “And… how are they?”

 

“They had the worst of it,” Nil said, “from what I heard. But they have allies now. They are getting help to heal.”

 

Falk laughed then even if his face was wet. He scrubbed at his cheeks. “The Red Raids are over,” he said again.

 

“We have a cart,” Coye said after a span of quiet. “To move Amma. We need to move.”

 

“We need to move,” Falk agreed. They all looked over at Amma, Eitan, and the infant.

 

“Can we move?” Nil asked. Coye looked at him. She hadn’t expected...this. Another addition to their party, and a capable one.

 

“We need to. Coye…” Falk looked at her, and she made herself look back at him. “We should have before. I’m… sorry, I didn’t listen.”

 

“We couldn’t have,” Coye said, and looked at the fire. “We can now, though. We will ready the cart.” Coye nodded with finality, and stood.

 

“I’ll cook something up quick,” Falk said as she gathered their items. She considered gathering her traps in the woods for the materials, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Most had been ruined in the previous attack, and it would take too long to salvage the rest. Nil joined her in the collection of their items. They used the pack to create cushions along with the blankets. They also sectioned the uncomfortable items onto a side.

 

When they finished Falk had covered some rabbit meat with a berry paste. “Not the best I’ve made, but I snuck some healing herbs in it. We could all use some,” he said. Amma was awake, but barely. Eitan was also run down, but looked the best of the three. The infant was swaddled, and feeding from Amma’s breast. They ate, drank, and then proceeded to move Amma to the cart.

 

“I’ll pull first,” Falk said, and took up the handles.

 

“I’ll take point, you get the back,” Coye said to Nil.

 

“A good vantage point,” Nil agreed, and fell back.

 

“Where are we going?” Eitan asked on a yawn while cuddling up to the already dozing Amma. He was helping to support the infant.

 

“Somewhere safe,” Falk said, and they started to, finally, move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of those chapters that didn't want to get written, needed to get written, and is unhappy that it was written


End file.
